


When It Comes to You, I Dance the Line Between Genius and Crazy

by ArchitectOfTheStars (AdaEinar)



Series: Plance Fics [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (I'd love for that to someday be a real tag), (or so they think), (why the heck is that not a tag), ALT Language of Tech, Advice, Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, Bed Hair, Bonding, Bonding With Lion(s), Confusion, Crazy People Talk to Themselves, Crushes, Denial, F/M, Flirting, Flustered Lance (Voltron), Geniuses Talk to Themselves, Go to sleep Pidge, Hoth reference (but it's not actually Hoth), Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Insecurity, Keith is clueless, Lance Needs Advice, Love Confessions, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Nerdy Pidge, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Original Programming Language, Peer Pressure, Pidge has taught Lance how to be smart, Pidge rambling about science because I'm a nerd so I'm gonna put it in my fics and you can't stop me, Pining, Pining Pidge | Katie Holt, Possibly Unrequited Love, Realization, References to Star Wars: Original Trilogy, Relationship Advice, Sleep Deprivation, Training, Unrequited Crush, a little langst, admitting crush, admitting love, crushes are hard, not because Lance is bad at flirting but because I'm bad at it, self-awareness, talking to yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaEinar/pseuds/ArchitectOfTheStars
Summary: Lance had heard somewhere that geniuses talked to themselves. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard it, or how true it was. If he reasoned through it--which Pidge always said he should do more--it didn’t really make sense to say that geniuses talked to themselves. Why would they? But she also insisted that when it came to science, it was better to trust good observational evidence than pure reasoning. And from the one example of a genius he knew--Pidge--he guessed it was true.She talked to herselfallthe time.It didn't bother him--in fact, he found it kind of cute.Exceptwhen she talked to herself abouthim.***Essentially, Pidge often says her thoughts out loud. And unfortunately for Lance, she apparently thinks about him a lot. It gets kinda awkward.
Relationships: Allura & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance & Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Plance Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933597
Comments: 33
Kudos: 91





	1. Genius or Crazy?

Lance had heard somewhere that geniuses talked to themselves. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard it, or how true it was. If he reasoned through it--which Pidge always said he should do more--it didn’t really make sense to say that geniuses talked to themselves. Why would they? But she also insisted that when it came to science, it was better to trust good observational evidence than pure reasoning. And from the one example of a genius he knew--Pidge--he guessed it was true.

She talked to herself _all_ the time.

She’d be coding, or building, or reading, and suddenly read out a couple lines. Then she’d grimace and launch into a heated debate with herself over what she’d just read.

“There’s no reason to cast the int here, loss of precision isn’t an issue when calculating sound volume, but— No, you should always cast, just in case. And besides, in the languages you’re most used to, it would be automatically promoted. You might end up expecting it to be cast just because you’re more familiar with— No, no! This isn’t Java, this is the ALT Language of Tech. You just need to readjust to Python-like variables, as restrictive as they are, because that’s what your programming language uses now—”

Lance had no clue what actors (casting) had to do with coffee (Java) or snakes (Python), but he had to admit that he found her heated arguments with herself a little cute. What _wasn’t_ funny about seeing your best friend hissing at herself when she was so tired she used COH SAH TOA instead of SOH CAH TOA? (Well, except for the part about her being tired. But the rest of it was downright adorable.) Keith complained it was annoying, it distracted Shiro and Allura, and it made Hunk worry, but it didn’t bother Lance at all.

Well, it didn’t bother him when she rambled about science or computers. It kind of got on his nerves when she mumbled about . . . other things.

Like him.

* * *

The first time he noticed it was in the morning, on a relatively light day. He’d gotten up late and, being pressed for time, had prioritized skin care over hair care. So his hair looked like . . . well, it looked like Pidge’s. Which didn’t sound like a bad thing, but only Pidge could pull off the messy-haired genius look.

He sat down next to her. Pidge seemed to think that any moment not spent programming was a waste--frankly, he was surprised she’d bothered to come to breakfast at all--so she was frantically typing away on her laptop while chewing (slowly and distractedly) on food goo.

“Stupid Altean system. Why can’t they just use RGB like a normal—”

“Hey, Pidge.” He grabbed a plate and began to shovel food into his mouth. Man, Hunk’s cooking was _good_.

She only gave him a cursory nod and smile when he sat down, then turned back to her coding, muttering, “I wish I knew how he manages to look so cute even with bed hair.”

Lance made the sound of the social equivalent of choking on pool water while swimming. Unfortunately, since he was eating, that meant he actually choked. He coughed up his food and reached for a glass of water, but barely spared a thought for his near-death experience. He was much more concerned with her comment. Did he hear her correctly? She thought he was cute?

He stared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice. She continued growling at the muddy colors appearing on her screen. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get much of an explanation from there.

He glanced around the table, looking for support or confirmation or _something_. Keith was staring sullenly into the distance, Shiro and Coran were arguing about something, and Allura and Hunk were chattering with the mice, leaving only him to have heard the green paladin’s offhand comment.

She thought he was cute.

Why did that make him blush? He put a lot of effort into his appearance, and acknowledgement of the payoff usually didn’t leave him so flustered. Of course, Pidge wasn’t usually one to comment on appearances. Maybe that was what felt weird about it. And the fact that he hadn’t taken the time to do his hair, so why would she . . .

Why did he find Pidge calling him cute so disorienting?!

“ _Lance_.”

“Huh? What?” Lance realized that Keith was trying to get his attention. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to train?”

He looked at Pidge one more time, lingering on the way her glasses tilted off-center as she rested her cheek on her hand, her hair falling past her ears and her fork occasionally missing her mouth because she had more important things to think about than eating.

“Sure, just let me fix my hair first.”

* * *

“Hey, Hunk?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Do you believe the saying that geniuses always talk to themselves?”

“Not really. Why would only geniuses talk to themselves? And besides, I’ve never heard that. I don’t believe this one, either, but _I’ve_ always heard that _crazy_ people talk to themselves.”

“Pidge isn’t crazy!”

“What does that have to do with . . . ?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

* * *

The second time was in the blue lion’s hangar. He and Allura were talking about the blue lion, and he threw a quick pickup line at her. She was distracted enough by conversation that he caught her off guard, getting her to actually blush. He smirked. She kept talking in her smooth, elegant voice as if she hadn’t noticed.

From off to the right, he could hear a less elegant, but just as pretty, voice mumbling through its frustrations. “And _that_ , Hunk, is why you use pseudocode. Also, why can’t Lance ever stop flirting? Anyway, even his annoying crush isn’t as bad as this program. Seriously, Hunk, _double modulate_!”

Lance blinked, looking over his shoulder. What was she doing here? She sat perched atop the green lion’s head, typing rapidly, her face far too close to the screen to be healthy.

Then he remembered. The green lion had taken to roaming the castle, usually ending up in the blue lion’s hangar, so she was usually in here too.

“. . . but of course, Blue has only ever had one other paladin before. You are something of a pioneer, being its second and current paladin,” Allura said cheerfully. He turned back to the conversation, trying to figure out what they’d been talking about.

“Yeah. Pioneer. Sounds kinda cool.” He framed a picture in the air in front of him, as if imagining a movie screen with his name on it. “But I’ll stick with ‘awesomely handsome sharpshooter’.”

That doesn’t quite earn a blush from Allura, just an eye roll and a scoff. He got the sense he’d lost whatever lead he’d gained with the first line, and then some.

From off to the side, he heard Pidge mutter, “Honestly, you’d think he’d know by now not to state the obvious.”

Against his will, he again focused on her voice. Was she talking about him?

“Handsome, awesome, yes. Good with women? . . . not really. Stupid blind idiot.” And then, just to make sure he wasn’t getting too confident in his interpretation of her words, she jabbed at her screen angrily. “OK, Hunk, _seriously_? I get the pseudocode. I get the modulations. But _this_? How did you not catch this??”

“Lance, you aren’t listening to me at all, are you,” Allura said bluntly.

He jumped. “No! I, uh— It’s just kind of hard to focus with Pidge rambling to herself.”

“Pidge?” Allura frowned. “Pidge is in here?” She looked around and caught sight of Pidge. “Oh, hello! Sorry, I didn’t notice you there!”

“It’s OK, I didn’t want to be noticed,” Pidge said, glaring at him.

“Well, you were . . .” He remembered what she’d said aloud and glanced away. “Uh, you were typing really loudly.”

She adjusted her glasses awkwardly, eyes narrowed. “Sorry. I’ll move.”

“No!” he said frantically. “It’s, er . . .” Allura gave him a strange look. “Never mind.”

* * *

“You really didn’t hear what she was saying, Allura?”

“No. I was talking to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You were supposed to be listening, I might add.”

“Yeah, but Pidge was saying some pretty interesting things . . . Heh. That’s not really the right way to describe it.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in programming.”

“I-I’m not.”

“Then what—”

“Never mind. What were you saying about me being a pioneer?”

“Lance, I’ve talked about seven things since then. _Important_ things.”

“Well, I think we’ve already established that I wasn’t paying attention. What were those seven things?”

* * *

The nice thing about the Castle of Lions was how it was big enough that it had lots of space for just hanging around and talking, not just training, commanding and calculating. Hunk and Lance spent most of their time in the--well, they called it the family room, a name that Pidge thought was ironic and Hunk thought was spot-on--and together, Lance and Hunk had convinced Pidge to do most of her programming in there as well.

Lance plopped himself down next to Pidge and peered over her shoulder at the lines of code appearing on her screen more rapidly than looked humanly possible.

He nudged her. “I see you’ve gotten into the programming algo- _rhythm_ ,” he said.

Hunk winced. “Lance, that was _painful_.”

Pidge chuckled to herself. “That was actually kinda clever, not that I’ll ever admit it.”

“Hm.” Hunk looked at Lance, whose ears were flushed pink, then at Pidge, and smiled. He winked at Lance and stood up. “Well, I have something I need to work on. Bye!” He ran out of the room before Lance could even say goodbye.

_Very convincing, Hunk. Your subtlety is amazing._

He swallowed. Since Pidge’s comment this time hadn’t been too strange . . . He took a few more minutes to work up the nerve to bring it up.

“Pidge?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe the saying that geniuses always talk to themselves?”

“Not really. Everybody talks to themselves.”

“Or the saying that crazy people talk to themselves?”

“I think my answer to the first question also answers the second. Why?”

“Well, uh . . . you talk to yourself a lot.” OK, why was he being so awkward about this? Seriously, why couldn’t he talk normally around her!? They were friends!

“I do?” Her eyes widened, and took a step back, her fist clenching. “Oh quiznack. What have I said?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” he lied quickly. “You just sometimes start ranting about science and stuff . . . Really, it’s nothing. Just curious.”

“Good.” she relaxed. “I thought for a second that, you know. I said all my thoughts out loud or something.” She looked horrified at the thought, which wasn’t too surprising. She was a private person. She’s taken multiple days after they first formed Voltron to explain her Mulan-iness, even past the point of it no longer mattering whether or not she’d lied about her identity. The idea of everything she ever thought slipping out of her lips was probably terrifying.

“I know. Don’t worry, you don’t.” _Not_ every _thought,_ he thought. _Just the ones that are surprising enough to drive me crazy obsessing over them._

She laughed. “That would be really embarrassing.”

“Yeah.”

They looked away from each other. Lance closed his eyes, wishing the awkwardness would go away. He didn’t want to be awkward around Pidge. They were friends. Just because she occasionally said things to herself she probably didn’t want him to hear didn’t mean they shouldn’t be able to look each other in the eye.

But how could he solve the problem? He couldn’t exactly grab her by the shoulders and stare into her eyes to force eye contact. That would probably make things weirder. He shook his head, unable to believe how clueless he felt. He was supposed to be good with people!

How was he supposed to solve this problem?

* * *

“Keith, what do you do when your relationship with someone gets awkward?”

“. . . what?”

“You’re right. You’re the last person I should be asking. But thanks anyway.”

* * *

He was up late at night having one of his pheobly (monthly) crises, when he heard footsteps from outside in the hallway. He reached toward the door to check who it was, but stopped when he heard her voice.

Pidge.

“I know it’s ridiculous to like him. I mean, it’s ridiculous to like anyone! I’m a strong, independent woman . . . well, not in so many words, but that is kind of the idea. I don’t do romance. I don’t crush. Especially not on people like him. But unfortunately, I haven’t found the source code for feelings, yet,” she chuckled, “so I’m kinda stuck in this state. It’s extremely distracting, not to mention it’ll make our friendship awkward.”

Then she sighed. “I mean, I’d like to imagine I have a chance, but chances are, I don’t. Just being realistic, not dramatic. There is no doubt that he likes Allura.”

_There is no doubt he likes Allura._

Some of Pidge’s smarts had rubbed off on him. Enough to know that _there was no doubt that Katie Holt was talking about him._

Pidge liked him.

Pidge . . .

Pidge _liked_ him.

He didn't hear the rest of her conversation with herself. He was too busy drowning in his own thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want a second chapter? Cuz there's definitely potential here for more story.
> 
> Also, I love using "ALT Language of Tech" as a programming language in the Voltron universe. Why? 1) Because you _could_ interpret it as "Altean Language of Tech". I like the idea that a lot of the science stuff in their universe comes from (at least partially) Altean alchemy. 1) But you can also interpret the "ALT" as standing for "ALT Language of Tech", which has been done in real life with the programming language PHP (PHP stands for PHP Hypertext Processor). 3) I just like how it sounds. I like that you can pronounce it either A-L-T or "alt". I just like this programming language name, OK? (Why did I write this second paragraph? No one will read it. But it's interesting to write, so why not?)


	2. Dancing Around Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with more! More awkwardness, and Lance realizing something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts off exactly where the last one left off, because everyone wanted to see how Lance responded.
> 
> (Lance is so fun when he's in denial.)

They had to talk. They had to discuss this somehow. They had to work it out—

Oh, crap. He tried to imagine how that conversation would go.

“Hey, Pidge. My dude. My little sister. I can tell you like me--because I’m just awesome like that--but I don’t return the feeling. I hope you’re OK with being friendzoned. Now let’s go form Voltron!”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. He groaned to himself. Where had this even come from?! Why would _she_ have a crush on _him_ of all people? He could understand if she had a crush on Hunk. He’d still be surprised, because this was _Pidge_ , but he’d understand. He always thought that if she fell for anyone, she’d fall for someone smarter than him. There were plenty of girls--most girls, actually--that he wasn’t good enough for. Pidge was pretty close to the top of that list.

(Not that that made a difference--he pursued even girls he was fifty leagues below. Like Allura.)

As weirded out as he was by the concept of Pidge liking him, he couldn’t do anything about it, unfortunately. He just had to wait for her to get over it! Right. Yeah. Because . .. because he was into _Allura_.

Having barely quelled the confusion and panic in his thoughts, he lay back down, pulling the thin blue sheets up to his neck and closing his eyes against the darkness. He fell asleep to the comforting familiarity of Pidge’s voice.

* * *

Lance gritted his teeth against the biting wind. As if setting his jaw could somehow make his body bear the cold better. He knew, logically, that it wouldn’t. But it helped psychologically, mostly by making it easier to keep placing one foot in front of the other.

“Hey Pidge?” he called.

“Y-yeah?” He could hear her teeth chattering even from a few steps in front of her. He’d always thought that teeth only chattered in books--he’d never been cold enough for his teeth to start trembling. Turned out it wasn’t just made up. When you got cold enough, you couldn’t keep your jaw still unless you locked it with all your might. Another reason he was clenching his teeth.

“You said you were thinking about changing our suits.”

“Yeah. They could take some . . . some remodeling.”

“Could you make them a little warmer when you do?”

She laughed, forcing her way through the wind to catch up with him.

The Galra seemed to have bases everywhere, even on the most inhospitable planets. The base they were attacking today was buried in snow, located right at the edge of an enormous ocean. The planet was so cold that even the ocean was frozen during the winter. It was so cold that even Keith, who Lance suspected didn't feel pain, had wormed his way out of trekking across the snow and opted to fly in the three-seat Galra ship they'd stolen a few miles away.

Lance shook his head. “Whose idea was it to put a Galra base on Hoth?”

“You just gave yourself away as a _very_ old-fashioned nerd, Lance,” Pidge said.

He raised his eyebrows. “I did, didn’t I. At least my taste in _movies_ is over a century old, instead of my taste in hairstyle,” he said, thinking of Keith's mullet.

She snorted.

“Also, _you_ just gave yourself away as just as big of an old-fashioned nerd as me.”

“Whoops,” she said.

They fell silent. He glanced back to check on her, and frowned. Through the tangle of wind-tossed red hair obscuring her face, he could make out bright pink cheeks, nose, and ears. Her eyebrows were crusted with ice and her lips blue.

He slowed his pace to match hers. “You OK?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “Fine.” He could still hear her teeth chattering.

“Cold?”

“Nope,” she said, too quickly.

He wondered why she looked so much colder than he felt. It was freezing, sure, but he was pretty sure his eyebrows weren’t frozen. Maybe she just didn’t generate as much body heat as he did, being smaller. Or maybe sleep deprivation had something to do with it. Or maybe she just naturally had worse circulation.

It didn’t matter. The point was, she was very clearly freezing.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” he said, pulling her to a stop.

“Lance, what are you—”

“Hemet on,” he said.

“I don’t—”

“Helmet on.”

“I’m fi—”

“Helmet _on_ , Pidge.”

She glared at him and complied, putting on her helmet and closing the visor. (Honestly, he wondered why they hadn’t both done that hours earlier.)

“Better?” he asked, switching on his radio, careful to set it so only she could hear him. For some reason, he wanted to keep this between them. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t anything particularly private or personal.

Then he realized just how close he was to the glass of her helmet, and thanked the fact that his cheeks were already red from the cold so she didn’t see him blush. Maybe there was a little more to this situation than just a friend trying to keep another friend from getting hypothermia.

Which was ridiculous, of course. She liked him, but they were just friends.

Still, he kept the radio connection closed between them and the other paladins.

“Yeah,” she said softly. She didn’t meet his eyes, instead activating her wrist screen and typing something onto it. He took a step back, getting the message. She wanted space. “Better. Much as I hate to admit it.”

He grinned. “See? Don’t lie to me next time.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite next time,” she said, pressing a button on her screen. Before he could answer or guess what she meant, his helmet visor closed over his face. She smirked through the glass. “You were just as cold as I was.”

“Hey!”

* * *

“Pidge?”

“Mm?” She didn’t look away from her laptop screen.

“It’s 0106 hours,” he said. “You’re supposed to be in bed, if I’m not mistaken.”

She looked up from her screen. “Why are you using military time?”

“I dunno. We’re technically soldiers, right?”

“The Altean clock doesn’t even match up to the 24-hour system. It has—”

“Twenty-one vargas, I know.”

She smiled. “Just a few more minutes--or doboshes, whatever. I have something I need to finish.”

“You always do,” he smirked, walking over to the couch where she sat. He didn’t miss how she shifted nervously when he sat down next to her, but he pretended not to notice. “What are you working on?” For once, she wasn’t working on coding--instead, she was working on something . . . 3D? What had she called the program she was using? A . . . a CAP?

Her face lit up. “I’m working on the new suit! And yes, I’m including lots of insulation. I’m using aerogel for that--that’s what I’m working on right now. The Altean 3D printer can’t create films of it on its own, so I have to draw the designs in a CAD—”

“A CAD!” Lance said. “ _That’s_ the word.”

She rolled her eyes, no doubt thinking he was just pretending to have remembered the term CAD. But he did. He remembered far more from her lectures than she thought he did.

“So. Aerogel?”

“Aerogel is probably the lightest material on Earth,” she said. “Although I admittedly haven’t checked in a while . . .”

Lance didn’t want to think about how much of Earth history they were missing. So he nudged her, making her jump and flush.

“Lightest material on Earth?” he prompted.

“Right. It’s designed to be primarily chaotic pockets of air--it’s literally ninety-nine percent air, actually. That makes it extremely light. But the gel that the remaining one percent is made of is a great insulator, and when it’s shaped into the structure of aerogel, it’s an even better insulator.” She tilted her screen to show him a model of a porous, bubbly material, with a warren of empty space inside it.

"How's that going to fit in our spacesuits? The bubbles look way too big."

She raised her eyebrows as if surprised he'd actually been listening. It was one of the few things she didn't seem to understand. If she was doing the talking, he would listen, no matter what she was talking about.

"This is a 100:1 scale. These air pockets are tiny. You can barely see them. It won't be hard to print a thin film of aerogel to coat the inside of our new suits."

"Have you tested it? Will it actually keep the heat in well?"

"No insulation is perfect, but if I thread it with a little quintessence--and yes, I found a way to do that--it'll keep us warm _much_ better than our old suits. Which is honestly kind of disappointing. The original suits are _spacesuits_. They should be _designed_ to stay warm."

He nodded. "I get the sense they were going more for style than function. They're pretty stylish, you gotta admit."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "Maybe you could help with making the new suits stylish."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Now _that_ I can do. Alright, it's time for bed." He slid his hands under her arms and tried to lift her up off the couch.

"Woah! Lance, stop!" She scrambled away from him. "Y-you-- Don't--" She swallowed. "I need to finish something."

He leaned forward, so close to her their noses touched. "And what, exactly, do you need to finish?"

"U-um . . ." Her eyes were wide. "I just need to print out the model. And test it."

"I see. And that would require . . . ?"

She averted her eyes. "It'll take a few hours to print, even something this small. And . . . I'll need a flamethrower. It'll take a while to set up."

"Right. And by then it'll be morning. Get in bed, Pidgeotto."

"Fine." She stood up, but he swooped forward and picked her up, going with an instinct he never could've foreseen.

Ignoring her protests, he carried her bridal-style out into the hallway. She went courteously quiet as they entered the echoey corridor and closed her eyes, dropping her ahead to his chest. She was much more tired than she let on, as usual.

She looked so sweet when she slept. So much less stressed. He'd like to see her sleeping more.

He stiffened. What had he been _doing_? He'd been teasing her, taking advantage of how uncomfortable he made her to get her to stop working and go to sleep. That wasn't exactly fair, and yet he'd been doing it anyway. Did he enjoy making her uncomfortable?

Or had he been teasing her for the same reason he flirted with Allura? Because of what he thought it could lead to?

Weird thoughts. It couldn't lead to anything. Why would it? It was just awkward, and he'd known that he could use that awkwardness to get her to want to catch up on sleep. Nothing more. How could it be more?

He smiled as he gently set her down in her bed, tugging the sheets to cover her and tucking them in around her neck. She mirrored his smile in her dreams.

* * *

He didn't see her until lunch that next day, which was probably good. He'd been a little too flirty the night before. He'd gotten too close to her. He needed to give her more space.

Pidge seemed to agree with him that the night before had been too far. (Which was ridiculous. They hadn't done anything at all. But for some reason it felt so much more intense than any flirting or kissing he'd ever done with a girl before. Despite it being nothing like that.) She didn't even meet his eyes as they ate lunch.

"So, Pidge was actually in her bed last night," Shiro said. "How'd that happen?"

Pidge and Lance met eyes, then she looked away. "It was late. I was tired. You guys are always bothering me, so I decided to actually get in bed for once."

Hunk snorted. "Since when do you remember the word 'sleep' without someone reminding you?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know I remember everything, Hunk."

"Right. Except for sleep."

"In my defense, scientists don't really understand sleep. So it's much harder to remember."

"Pidge, how well scientists understand something has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not you remember to do it," Lance said, watching her plate carefully. Eating was apparently another thing scientists didn't understand, because she was focusing on the conversation instead of the food. At least she'd actually shown up--she'd missed breakfast the morning before.

"I know," she said.

"What? No clever quip?" Hunk said.

". . . I'm a little distracted," she admitted, her eyes flitting to Lance.

He blushed. Just when he thought he could forget . . .

He cleared his throat and finally answered Shiro's question. "Anyway, I reminded her to, um . . ." He went silent when she glared at him. "What?! I _did_ come to get you in bed!"

"Yeah, but you don't need to--"

"Why? Why not? Nothing happened," he said. "I don't know why you're acting like we--"

"I need to go set up the flamethrower," she snapped, storming away from the table. Lance watched her back until she disappeared around the corner, then turned back to the table. Everyone was staring at him.

"What?"

Allura exchanged a look with Hunk, who said in a singsong voice, "Teeeeensiiioooonnnn."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

Sitting on the blue lion’s paw was weirdly comfortable, considering it was made of metal. He just fit right. The part where the paw met the leg was shaped perfectly for his back. And being in physical contact with Blue helped him feel the lion’s calming presence more. When he really focused on his connection with Blue, he could sense the peace and joy, the flexibility, the confidence through adversity, that was characteristic of the blue lion. It channeled better when they were touching, for some reason.

He really needed that characteristic peace, joy, and confidence right now.

“Hello, Lance.”

He looked up, half hoping it was Pidge, half afraid. Things were too complicated, too inexplicable, between them. Which was annoying, but it also meant he wanted to clear things up as soon as possible.

 _I know you like me, Pidge. But I can’t like you like that. We need to stop dancing around each other._

But it wasn’t her. It was Allura.

“Hey, Allura.”

“Trying to bond a little more with the blue lion?” she asked.

Bonding. Ha. He used to be good at bonding with people. The past few days with Pidge have made him question that.

“No. Just . . . thinking.”

She gave him an apologetic smile. “ _Could_ I help you with bonding? Shiro mentioned something about how he interacts with Black, and since you’re the one who has the weakest bond . . .”

“Yeah. I get it,” he grumbled, standing up and sliding down the smooth side of the paw. Pidge never insulted him like that. She teased him, sure, but she made it very clear that even if she believed whatever she was saying, it didn’t _matter_ whether or not it was true. Allura’s tactful hesitation to say something offensive revealed just how much Allura believed what she was saying. “What is it?”

“Shiro found that if you channel the traits in you that connected you to the lion to the first place, you form a better bond.”

“Huh.” Not too surprising. “So, I just focus on . . . um . . .” Come to think of it, Allura had never actually told him what traits the blue lion exemplified. It was just his instincts that told him it represented joy and adaptability.

“The blue lion’s traits. Exactly.”

Very helpful, Allura. Maybe she didn’t know either, and was just trying to hide it.

He pressed his hand against the blue lion’s paw. He tried to focus on whatever made him the blue paladin. His cheerfulness—

(Which didn’t seem to do much except make Pidge uncomfortable and infatuated around him.)

—and his adaptability—

(Which he didn’t seem to have, since he was struggling so much to adjust to this new situation with Pidge.)

He still couldn’t understand why things were so weird between them. Why had she panicked during lunch? Why did he feel so awkward around her, even thought she was the one who had a crush, not him? His usual people skills seemed to have fled him. And the truth was, they probably weren’t much use in the first place. Pidge was too logically, too wonderfully different, for his usual social instincts to work when it came to her.

Which made him wonder why she had even crushed on him in the first place. Again, it seemed like she would go for someone a little smarter. Someone who thought like her. Someone who _wouldn’t_ be confused by the way she’d acted over lunch.

Was it true that opposites attract? But surely you couldn’t build a stable relationship from such different people. Not that there was any reason he should be thinking about a stable relationship with Pidge at the moment.

And . . . were the two of them really that opposite? Sure, he couldn’t understand her, but maybe that was because this crush was different. After all, people didn’t usually crush on Lance. Lance was usually the one who was in love.

Love. Not a crush.

Surely she didn’t _love_ him, right?

“Lance.”

He jumped, pulling away from the paw. Allura was giving him her most princess-y glare.

“Are you even _trying_ to bond?”

“I— Uh, it’s hard to focus with you staring at me?” That excuse sounded pathetic even to him. He winced.

“Hm. Normally, that would serve as a motivator for you.”

Yeah, not any more, Allura. That ship has fortunately sailed. Well, actually, the point was that it _hadn't_ sailed.

“What _were_ you thinking about?”

“. . . shelves?”

“Try again, Lance.”

* * *

Hunk said he and Pidge had finally found a way to connect to wifi from the other side of the Universe and download movies. Sounded pretty impossible to him, but if anyone could do the impossible, it was those two. Besides, he didn’t care how he was getting his movies. He was just ready for a movie night.

Hopefully, they could watch _the Empire Strikes Back_.

“Hey, Lance!”

Lance spun around to see Pidge approaching him. “Hi,” he said tentatively.

“Going to Hunk’s room for the movie?” she said with a voice that sounded a little too cheerful to be real.

“. . . are you?”

“Of course. I set it up.”

“Yeah.” He’d wondered before if he wanted or didn’t want to see Pidge. Now he knew his answer.

He didn’t want to talk to her right now. At _all_. He just couldn’t muster the courage to figure out what to say. He hated how awkward he felt, but still he felt awkward. He just couldn't talk to her tonight.

"Well, as for me, I . . . uh . . . I gotta go train."

"Oh." Her face fell so obviously that he winced. "If you change your mind . . ."

"Probably won't, but thanks anyway."

As he walked away, he could hear her whispering angrily to herself. He only caught a few snatches. "Tell him . . ." ". . . admit . . ." ". . . stupid feelings . . ."

He wondered what that was about.

* * *

Lance fired his bayard at the targets far at the other end of the room, then jumped at the sound of the door sliding open. Oh, _crap_. He stared at the targets, tightening his grip on the bayard and praying the newcomer was Keith.

He never thought he’d see the day when he _wanted_ the person invading his training time to be Keith.

But no luck. It was Pidge.

“Hey, Lance.”

“H-hey . . .”

He deactivated his bayard and turned around. “Are you going to . . .” He swallowed. “Going to train?” Oh come on, McClain! She’s the one with a crush, not you!

“Yeah,” she said, not meeting his eyes. He winced inwardly at the absence of a joke, even a small one. “Believe it or not,” she said, holding up her bayard, “I _still_ haven’t managed to adjust to using this to swing. I’m not spiderman. I have to actually practice.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll be with Shiro, in the, uh . . .” He coughed vaguely, unable to come up with an excuse she wouldn’t see straight through. “See you.”

“Yeah,” Pidge whispered angrily to herself. Like with all else she did, he was intensely aware of her--how clear her voice was, even when quiet. “Just avoid me, like always. He’s making this awfully difficult.”

He stopped outside the door, staring at his bayard. Avoiding her? Had he been avoiding her?

Yeah, probably.

Hanging out with her was just . . . awkward. He was too aware of how awkward she acted--fidgeting, muttering to herself, leaning into his touch. He couldn’t tell if he was afraid to let her down or afraid to strengthen her crush, but whatever the reason, he was afraid to be around her. Afraid to hurt her. Afraid to complicate things. Insecure coward that he was, he figured it was better to pull away, let their relationship dangle where it was, than bring it splashing down.

So yes. He’d been avoiding her.

But it was the best choice at the present time.

As he left the training room for the showers, he imagined--against his will--what things would be like if he _didn’t_ ignore her. If instead, he spent every moment with her.

It would be fun. There was no doubt about that. Spending time with her was, fundamentally, fun. She was a fun person--she had a sense of humor, the brains to back up jokes, and her sense of timing was flawless. There was a reason he could banter with her endlessly (well, when he wasn’t feeling awkward).

And it would never get boring. She could make anything interesting. Even talking about seemingly meaningless lines of words and numbers on a screen seemed fascinating when she was the one doing it. Something about the way she talked and the connections she drew enthralled him.

She was fast-paced. There was always something to do with her. He wouldn’t have a chance to think about anything but the moment he was in, and that would be perfectly fine with him.

He smiled as he savored the shower. If it weren’t for the awkwardness, spending every moment with her would be wonderful.

It was only after he left the shower that he realized how strange his thought process had been.

He hadn’t thought about Allura at all for a week, even when he was in the room with her. And yet, after spending almost no time with Pidge, by choice, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And thinking about her made him smile, something he did surprisingly little when he was alone.

Which meant he liked her. Pidge. He liked Pidge.

Nerdy, boyish, little Pidge.

He liked the way her eyes shone in the starlight. He liked the way she could ramble with the excitement of a first-grader about her green lion mods for hours. He liked how she could fall asleep anywhere except her bed. He liked how she was so sure of herself in a way Lance could never dream of.

He liked _her_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took you a while to figure it out, buddy.
> 
> At this point, it'd just be mean if I asked whether or not I should post more. This story is obviously waiting for one more chapter. And it's coming, I promise. I just can't tell you when it's coming, since these past few weeks have been really busy and frustrating. Scraping together the time to write this chapter was harder than it should've been, considering this is something I enjoy. So it's coming, just probably not very soon. Although hopefully it'll be sooner than I expect!


	3. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So no one's in denial anymore. Oh no! How will we have plot if both characters know they like each other?! I guess they'll just get together immediately, since they both like--and know they like--each other!
> 
> Yeah, unfortunately, it's never that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is tradition for this fic, the story picks up where it left off. Lance just left the showers, in other words.

_Okay. Okay. We both like each other. There's no fear of rejection. So we should date. I should tell her. I_ can _tell her. I just need to walk up to her and say it._

He repeated it to himself over and over, pacing the hallways with his hair still wet from the shower, wishing he were watching the movie with Pidge and Hunk. But he couldn't. It was still awkward with her. Even more awkward now that the feelings were mutual.

Or at least, now that he _knew_ the feelings were mutual. They'd been mutual for a long time.

Lance bit his lip, leaning against the wall. What an idiot. Falling for random alien girls was dumb--those relationships couldn't and shouldn't last. Falling for someone far out of his league, like Allura, was stupid. But falling for someone like Pidge? Someone who was not only out his league, but showed no interest in any romantic relationships? That was pure idiocy.

She didn't have any interest in a romantic relationship, right? Right? She liked him, but that wasn't the same as wanting to date him. She probably didn’t want the distraction. Probably thought of the crush as just another frustrating, irrational emotion she had to learn to shut down.

But what if she didn't? What if she really wanted to be with him?

Quiznack. Lance was good with people, but when it came to Pidge . . . when it came to _this_ . . . his people skills were, in the end, just guesses. To put it the way Pidge would, he didn't have enough data to draw any reliable conclusions from. He'd never talked to Pidge about relationships.

Why hadn't he ever talked to her about relationships? Why hadn't he taken that opportunity when he still felt comfortable around her?! It would've been so helpful. And it would've been time with _her_. Time he desperately missed.

He groaned, pushing himself away from the wall. In the end, it didn't really matter whether or not she was interested in dating. He couldn't stand to stay in this awful, awkward state any longer. If admitting his feelings made it easier to laugh and joke with her, then so be it. He'd do anything to get their friendship back to the way it was, even if it meant losing a chance at something more with her.

Romance would be wonderful. But he needed Pidge in his life, whether as a romantic partner or friend.

With that understanding, he returned to his room, planning on a long night's sleep. He would need it to pull off what he hoped to pull off tomorrow.

* * *

Predictably, knowing you had to do something and having the courage to do it were not the same thing.

He tried to ease himself into it, starting with approaches he was familiar with. Using those age-old tactics with Pidge was strange in so many ways, but if it worked . . .

He swallowed, knocking on the door to Pidge's room. "Pidge?" he called.

The door opened so quickly it almost slammed into his face. He pulled back, flushing. "Lance!" she said. "Hi! Hey! Hello!" She took a deep breath, adjusting her glasses the way he might run his hand through his hair when he was nervous. It seemed to calm her down enough for her to meet his eyes. "I need to talk to you."

He quirked an eyebrow and leaned close to her. "As beautiful as your voice is, _Paloma_ , I'm going to stick with just watching." He ran a finger over her cheek.

She grabbed his hand. "Uh, OK . . . watching what?"

Was she really that oblivious? Or was she playing with him? He couldn't tell whether this was a bad or brilliant idea.

"Watching the most beautiful thing in the universe, of course," he said, pulling his hand away from her strong grip. Not his smoothest line, but he wasn't exactly in top form at the moment. You know. Too distracted.

She frowned, which he wasn't sure how to interpret. Better to just go for it. Cupping her face with one hand and holding hers in the other, he whispered, "I'm talking about you, obviously, mi amor." He raised her hand to his lips.

She pulled away, her face red. Before he could react, she rammed a fist into his gut and sprinted down the hallway.

He dropped to the ground, his stomach on fire. "Quiznack," he gasped. "How does she get enough force to make that hurt like that?!"

He probably shouldn't be surprised that she didn't respond well to regular flirting. He wouldn't have expected it to actually scare her, but he should've seen that she wouldn't find it in any way attractive. This was Pidge. Regular methods wouldn work with her, because she herself was so unusual.

In a good way. It was why he liked her.

He pushed himself to his feet, thinking, _Note to self: Do not try and seduce Pidge. Ever._

* * *

Flirting didn't work. The next obvious step would be to just _tell_ her.

“Pidge, could we, uh . . . could we talk?”

“Are you going to be weird this time?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“. . . no? I mean, it depends on what your definition of weird is.”

“Will you do something that will make me want to punch you?”

. . . he couldn’t promise her that.

“Pidge, I need to tell you something.”

“So do I.”

“Could I go first?” he asked tentatively. It would be easier if he just got it over with.

She swallowed, and he realized she was just as nervous as he was. “OK.”

“Pidge, I think I—” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I like—” No, no. Too fast. Why was he doing this? Couldn’t he just back down and leave it be? Was this really a good idea? “I have a—” No, it was so much more than a crush. That was the problem, wasn’t it? His brain kept finding things in her that it liked, not just her hair or her smile or her eyes or her body. _Her_. It wasn’t a crush. It was something much more terrifying.

His desire to get rid of the awkwardness battled with his fear that telling the truth would just make things more awkward. How could it not? And she just kept on staring at him, making this so much harder . . .

“Hunk needs you in the kitchen,” he said finally. “Something about experimenting with the heating system.” He spun around and stalked toward the door.

“Hey! Wait! Let me say what I—”

“Nope! I’m busy! Hunk needs help! Bye!”

* * *

Lance paced the halls of the castle ship, trying to figure out what to do.

He needed a better plan this time. A plan that he couldn't come up with on his own.

But he already knew what Hunk would suggest. He already knew what Allura would suggest. Quiznack, he even knew what Keith would suggest, not that he would ever follow _Keith’s_ advice.

There was one person he hadn’t asked yet, though.

Lance stopped outside Shiro’s door, his hands shaking. It probably shouldn’t be this hard to talk to his leader. They called the team their family, they called Shiro their dad, and there were only seven people on the entire ship! But he was still nervous.

This was Shiro. The man who’d been his hero for years. The man who’d taught at the Garrison, went to Kerberos, fought the Galra, and led Voltron. He was a living legend, and Lance had thought of him that way even before finding out about his year of imprisonment. Even before he led Voltron. Now the adoration was even worse.

He knew that Shiro was just a man. A kind man, who wouldn’t be annoyed by Lance asking for help. But it was hard to remember that when faced with the prospect of talking to someone so wonderful, and so distant. Shiro was friends with Keith, he knew Pidge, he worked well with Allura, and--like everyone--he got along with Hunk. But Lance?

Who knew what Shiro thought of him. He probably didn’t think much--both in that he didn’t think Lance was worth much, and in that he didn’t think about Lance very often.

But Lance needed help. So here he was.

Lance knocked timidly. “Shiro? Could I . . . Could I talk to you about something?”

“Of course. Come in.”

Shiro was in the middle of doing push-ups. Lance winced. Here he was, worrying about romance, while his leader was working himself to pieces in preparation to save the universe. It always seemed to end up that way. Part of him wanted to get down and join Shiro, but that would just make him look like an idiot. So he waited, watching quietly.

Finally, Shiro finished, standing up. He didn’t tremble like Lance always did after doing push-ups, he just stretched his arms and sat down on his bed.

“How many?” Lance asked hesitantly.

“A hundred.”

Lance’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. A hundred. _Quiznack._

“What did you want to talk about?”

Lance opened his mouth, then turned away. Shiro was too busy and important to help Lance with a silly crush. They may call him Space Dad, but he wasn’t Lance’s father. He had no obligation to help Lance with his personal issues. He was up in space to save the universe, not . . . this. Lance could figure it out on his own.

“Never mind. Sorry I bothered you.” Simply apologizing, when he had interrupted Shiro’s workout routine and probably screwed it up so much he would have to restart, didn’t seem to cut it. But there was nothing Lance could do except avoid making the same mistake next time. And _leave the room as soon as humanly possible_. He turned to open the door.

“Wait, Lance.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“It’s nothing—”

“No, tell me.”

Lance swallowed. “OK. I . . . It’s really not worth bothering you about . . .” Shiro raised an eyebrow, and he cringed, nodding. “Right. I, um, I like Pidge. A lot. And I’m trying to work up the nerve to tell her and I just . . . I can’t . . .”

“How can I help?”

“I need a plan. Something I can do that won’t let me back out.”

“Hmm.” Shiro frowned. “I have to tell you, Lance, I’m not exactly an expert on this kind of thing.”

“No, I know. But I already know what everyone else would say, and I can’t do this on my own.” It hurt to admit that. Lance was supposed to be the one who was good with girls. But his supposed "talents" failed him more often than he'd ever admit.

Shiro stared at him as if trying to figure something out. After a few minute of awkward silence, Shiro sighed. “I don’t know how to help you, Lance. The best advice I can give is just . . . sit down and force yourself to do it. And remember, the team is always here to back you up.”

 _The team is always here to back you up._ Heh. As if that could make a difference.

But what if it could?

“Hang on a second,” Lance said. “I just had an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m kind of going to need everyone’s help. Hunk and Allura will be easy to get on board, but you’re going to have to convince Keith.”

“What will it involve?”

“Basically just you guys standing in a room around me so I can’t back out. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of you, after all.”

Backing out of telling Pidge would be pretty embarrassing. But the plan itself was going to be plenty awkward even if it worked. Who wanted to admit their crush in public, after all?

* * *

Peer pressure was a powerful thing. Lance had done many stupid things--and many things he was actually quite proud of--to avoid embarrassing himself in front of friends. The same concept applied here, it was just a little more intense.

Oh, and it was intentional. He was intentionally torturing himself with peer pressure so he couldn’t back out. This wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had, but it probably came close.

Lance stood up quickly as Pidge walked into the bridge. She froze in the doorway, frowning. It was probably a strange sight--Lance standing in the center of the room, looking nervous and embarrassed, and the others standing in a ring around him, with everyone but Keith smiling reassuringly at Lance. (Keith just looked confused.)

Pidge pressed her lips together, shook her head, and then marched to the center of the room, straight up to him. “OK, I have no idea what’s going on here, but you’re not getting out this time. I need to tell you something and you are not running away.”

He met her eyes, doing his best to not get caught like a fly in the gorgeous amber of her irises. “I know. I’m . . . sorry about last time. I have something to tell you too.”

“And you won’t . . . make things weird?”

“I promise I won’t. Could I go first?”

She smiled and nodded, and he could feel himself begin to melt. He had to do this quickly or he’d never get it over with.

“Pidge, I—”

Hunk was grinning at him with thumbs up. Allura was whispering to the mice with her hands clasped in front of her eagerly. Shiro was smiling in a way that just strengthened the “space dad” nickname. Keith looked confused.

They were all so supportive and helpful. But quiznack. This was something between just him and Pidge. That was more important than peer pressuring him into admitting hus feelings.

“You know what? Let’s do this in a different room,” Lance said, taking her hand and leading her into the hallway. He could see their confused reactions out of the corner of his eye, and spared a second to give them a thumbs-up.

_I got this._

When they were out of earshot from the door, Lance turned to hold Pidge’s gaze again. She didn’t let go of his hand, as if she refused to let him bail again. He wasn’t complaining.

He braced himself, and then went for it.

“Pidge, I like you.”

She stared at him.

“Actually, that’s not the right word. I love you. Pidge, I love you.” The more he said it, the more natural it sounded. He repeated it, unable to stop himself. “I love you, I love you, I l—”

Pidge threw her arms around him, pulling him down to her level to hug him. “Yes!” she shouted. “I _knew_ it!” She pulled away, her smile the biggest he’d ever seen. “I . . . well, you’ve probably already figured it out, but I like you too.”

He smiled. “I did kinda know.”

“How?”

“. . . you talk to yourself a lot, Pidge.”

She winced. “I wondered why you asked.” She sighed. “Gotta stop doing that.”

“Pidge, if you _didn’t_ talk to yourself, I never would’ve been smart enough to realize I’d crossed the line between liking you as a friend and liking you romantically. I don’t care if people think it’s a sign of insanity or genius--it’s you, so I like it.”

She laughed and hugged him again. And the hug was wonderful, really. But he’d like just a little more.

“Pidge . . .” She pulled away again, but only enough that they could look into each other’s eyes. “I take it from your reaction that you . . . you might want to . . . um, date me?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“That’s a yes?”

She laughed. “Yes, _heck_ yes! I admit it’s . . . kind of a big step, but it’s a step I want to take with you.”

He couldn’t stop grinning. “Does that mean I can kiss you?”

She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath to herself, “should you do it? I mean, you trust him. You like him. But this is a big line to cross. A first kiss is a big deal . . .” She stopped and opened her eyes, grinning. “I’d pretend to talk to myself for longer, but I don’t think I can wait that lo—”

He pulled her into a kiss, refusing to let her finish the sentence. He stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and just kissed her.

The sound of footsteps made them pull away to see the other four standing down the hallway, watching them eagerly. Lance blushed, but they didn't look like they wanted to tease--they looked like they wanted to cheer.

“Yes!” Allura squealed. “Finally!”

“It’s about time you guys got together,” Hunk shook his head.

“Congratulations,” Shiro smiled.

Keith’s frown of confusion disappeared. “ _Oh_. I think I get it now.”

Lance just laughed and pulled Pidge into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not very happy with how the second scene (the one with Lance flirting) turned out. Partly because I can’t write flirting, and partly because . . . quiznack, Pidge, _why_ did you punch him? But she shows affection through violence, so I let it slide.
> 
> I do like the scene where Lance talks to Shiro, though. I’m not sure what to say about it, just that writing that scene made me appreciate Lance’s relationship with Shiro more. Or, well, what I imagine their relationship would be, since there’s literally no canon content to draw from. It highlights Lance's insecurity, but also present huge potential for him to grow. It gives Shiro a chance to be more than a leader or a dad, but to also be a friend. (Also, poor Lance. Just . . . poor Lance. My baby.)
> 
> Aaaaand it’s over! I can go back to one-shots! If I ever try to write a story with multiple chapters, I’m definitely going to make sure I have all the chapters finished beforehand.


End file.
